Not sure what I'm doing...

Amara stared at the ceiling in her quarters. She'd been trying to fall asleep for two hours now and it just wasn't happening. She couldn't believe it when she saw she had messages from her mother. She knew she was up for parole, and she knew she'd probably get it. Her mother was a master at manipulation and she was sure any parole board would eat it up.

She sighed and rolled over on her side to stare at the wall. She hadn't heard from her mother in ten years, and she really had no desire to hear from her now. She'd done her best to ignore them and distracted herself ever way she could think of, but they somehow always creeped back into her thoughts. Now it seemed she wasn't going to get any sleep if she didn't do something about it.

Finally, she got out of bed and went to see what her mother wanted. She couldn't shake the feeling of dread as she accessed her messages. She fully expected another bullshit apology like the one she'd got when she was ten. However, what she did read surprised her.

It was only three words. "Mari, please help."

Well, so much for sleep. Now she was worried. Her mother had treated her terribly as a child, but she was still her mother. If she was in trouble, Amara would do everything in her power to help her. The first thing she needed to do was figure out where her mother sent that message from. With another sigh she grabbed her datapad and headed for the mess hall for some coffee. It was going to be a long night.